Chapter 15 #2
Taggart snorted and shook his head as he yanked a plaid off one of the drying racks in the corner and slapped it around his waist. “Well, it appears ye have another Protector now. ’Tis just as well, since it is more than a little obvious that I am not the man for the job.
” Why in Hades did she refuse to see reason?
Had she forgotten the destruction in Jasper Mills ?
“What are you talking about? You have been protecting me.” She lowered William to the floor, grinning as he wobbled across the smooth paved stones.
How could he explain his panic when she hadn’t been there?
He stared at her standing there with her arms crossed and her stubborn little chin lifted to her trademark, defiant slant.
As soon as he had realized she was gone, he should have shifted to his Draecna form, scanned the area, and been at her side within seconds.
Instead, her disappearance from the kitchen had thrown him into a misguided frenzy; he had lost direction, his battle prowess, forgotten the strength and magic coursing through his veins.
It had taken Septamus and Thaetus to snap him out of it, to tell him what he needed to do.
What sort of Protector waited for orders like a common foot soldier at the front line of the fighting?
“Last night,” he began, then stopped. He turned aside, then started pacing around the stifling room.
By the fires of Erastaed, the nursery seemed smaller than ever before.
The scented air blew hot across his skin, stirred by the gently undulating branches of Rowanian saplings fanning the eggs.
His heart wrenched with what he was about to say, but he had no choice.
Her safety was all that mattered. “Last night should not have happened. I broke a sacred vow.” In many ways, he silently added.
Her eyes went cold and flinty as the color drained from her face.
She shut down on him; he sensed it. She didn’t understand it was for her own good, her own safety, but it had to be done.
“I have to keep ye safe, Hannah. Above all else, yer safety is more important than anything. Worlds depend on it. Please understand.”
Her eyes narrowed further and her mouth leveled to a hard line. “Fine.” She turned, scooped up William, and headed toward the door.
“Fine?” He scrubbed his face and released a defeated groan.
By all the holy fires, he knew that dreaded word.
When a woman said fine in that tone, it surely doomed a man straight to the accursed pits.
He hadn’t lived over seven hundred years without hearing horror stories about men’s mates using the word fine.
At the door, tapping her foot, she shrugged and repeated, “Fine.”
He reached for her, then let his hand drop. The look on her face said it all. “Holy blazes, Hannah, please. Ye have to understand. I must keep ye safe. Worlds and countless races depend upon it. Can ye not at least try and understand?”
“I understand perfectly,” she said. Her tone said a great deal more than her words.
William propped his scaly chin on her shoulder and licked his forked tongue out at Taggart with another threatening hiss.
“Do not sass me, boy!” Taggart warned, jabbing his finger within a hair’s breadth of the young Draecna’s nose. He neither needed nor would tolerate an ill-mannered hatchling while trying to protect his precious Hannah.
“Just open the door. William and I will go up to the gardens where Septamus and Gearlach can babysit us until it’s time for the next shift to tag-team out and watch over every move I make.”
“Gavrana.” Taggart blew out a weary sigh and motioned for the signet to release the lock. So it would be like that. The growth of their closeness shattered. “There. But how did ye get in here when ye were alone?”
She paused after entering the tunnel and shot back a warning glare. “Apparently, when I am not so pissed I can’t see straight, the door opens if I just stand in front of it.”
“Of course.” He waved her onward, mourning all he had so quickly lost.
Unbelievable. Taggart clenched his teeth until his jaws ached while William stood fidgeting in front of him.
Three months and still no improvement. He could not understand why training William was so much more difficult than getting Gearlach through his formative years.
Never had Gearlach been this much trouble and so bloody defiant.
Chin propped in his hand, he studied the downcast youth, praying to all the gods and goddesses for patience and wisdom. This willful hatchling would be the death of him.
Out of the corner of his eye, Gearlach’s sheepish expression taunted him too. The other matter infuriated him even more. And why, by all that was holy, would Gearlach teach William that flatulence turned into the greatest entertainment when set aflame, creating explosive fireballs?
Returning his attention to his squirming charge, Taggart resettled his stance.
“While no other Draecna has accomplished that trick at such a young age...” He shot a glare at Gearlach.
They would speak about being a more proper role model to William later.
"It is less than impressive because it is crude. "
He cleared his throat. “I hold Gearlach responsible, lad. But ye are old enough to know the difference between that which is wise and that which is not. Show some sense! Use yer damned head for something other than a place for the midges to land.” With a tip of head toward the castle, he spoke louder, ready to throttle the youngling if he didn’t apply himself in a more serious manner.
“And I want ye to spend more time with Septamus rather than Gearlach. He is a much better influence on ye. Understand?”
“Aye.” William nodded and sidled a smoldering golden-eyed glare at Gearlach as if silently accusing him of sending him straight to the gallows.
He dug a toe into the soft dirt of the clearing. “Dinna tell Mother. Please?”
“If ye promise to do better—ye ken?”
William nodded, then suddenly brightened. “Mother wants to know if we can keep the kitty inside when the dead of winter comes.”
Kitty? What the blazes was this about a feline? He shook his head. “No cats are allowed at Taroc Na Mor, boy. Not ever. Those beasts are ill-omened.”
Gearlach ambled over, stepping up to the youngling’s side. “What filthy cat to ye speak of, William? Ye never said anything about a feline slinking around the keep.”
With a nervous shrug of his tiny wings, William eased back a step, his gaze darting back and forth between them.
“Mother’s cat. It comes to her private courtyard under her window.
’Specially in the evenings afore bedtime.
She feeds it milk and bits of her supper.
’Tis soft and grey and if I sit verra still, Mother lets me hold it. ”
Taggart’s gut wrenched as he locked eyes with Gearlach. There wasn’t a cat on this side of the portal that would get anywhere near a Draecna. Natural enemies since the beginning of time, the two species detested one another. Something wasn’t right. “Is your mother with Septamus now?”
William shook his head. “No, I left her in the garden with Thaetus and the kitty.”
“Thaetus wouldna be caught with a cat. He detests them as much as we do.” Gearlach worried a claw around one of his horns.
“Oh, Thaetus didna ken the cat was about,” William said. “Kitty sneaks through the bushes. She likes to hide ’til no one but Mother or me is about.”